Tiny Cafe Citron seems worlds away from Lisner Auditorium and the annual Flamenco Festival, but on Mondays, the Dupont Circle club is a hotbed of flamenco. With flickering candles lighting much of the room, vocalist Gerard Moreno and guitarist Michael "Miguelito" Perez take seats on a low stage set along the back wall. Moreno sings upbeat rumbas and plaintive ballads while Perez's nimble picking alternates between propulsive rhythms and delicate melodies.
But all eyes are on dancer Sara Jerez. She flashes across the spotlit stage, her thick black hair flowing behind her, heels tapping out percussive cadences. Jerez's arms sweep through the air as she turns sharply, gesturing passionately with a red fan that matches her dress. She pauses, clapping sharply to accompany Perez, before beginning a new sequence of steps.
"I've never been to Spain," Perez says later, "but my friends tell me [Citron] is more like the real flamenco" in Spain, when people get together and dance in restaurants and nightclubs.
Perez fell in love with flamenco 14 years ago while studying classical guitar at California State University at Fullerton. The Los Angeles native spent summers in Washington with his mother after his parents divorced, and on one visit home from college, he decided he wanted to learn more about the local flamenco scene. "I called up the Spanish Embassy and asked them where to go," he says. "Who would you call if you wanted to know about Spanish music?" He was directed to the Spanish Dance Society and began to accompany dance classes at George Washington University -- recitals, student shows and eventually professional gigs.
Cafe Citron's flamenco night started in September 2001 and has been a fairly regular event ever since, but even Perez admits the setup is far from perfect. Unless you're somewhat close -- dining at a table or sitting in one of the prized seats at the end of the bar -- it's hard to see dancers on the low stage, and the intricate footwork, the swishing skirts and graceful arm gestures are blocked by heads and bodies. Regulars know to make reservations for tables near the stage or arrive early and stake out a spot near the end of the bar before the two performances, which begin around 8 and 9. (Don't worry: sangria and caipirinha specials help time go faster.) Flamenco dancing is about the nuances in every movement. Unlike most dance forms, flamenco fits the music around the dancer's steps.
"You watch what they do with their choreography, you create music on the spot," Perez says. "Then they hear what you do, and they respond to it."
The vocalist, too, is improvising, playing with melodies that come from a long oral tradition; flamenco dancing was only codified in the 18th century.
This unspoken conversation between the dancers and musicians, Perez says, "is what makes flamenco so alive: It's based on the energy of the moment."
Throughout the night, the musicians switch between various styles of flamenco, from quick-stepping numbers to a slow, dramatic style called solea.
-- Fritz Hahn (February 2005)
